


Hunka Burnin' Love

by GalacticDavey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Punk AU, Recreational Drug Use, but no actual sexytimes they just flirt a lot, hunk is a big sweet dork, i rlly want to make this a series damn it, lance is kind of an egghead but he does better at the end, mild sexual innuendo, punk keith at least, they dance with mary jane, they smoke that devil's lettuce, time will tell, vaguely college au?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticDavey/pseuds/GalacticDavey
Summary: The thing was, he came to this thing with Lance—he was meeting somebody, and that had been about the extent of Hunk’s knowledge. And, the thing was, he didn’t think that they would get separated, but if he were honest with himself this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Usually, it was a minor issue, Hunk was capable of occupying himself, but the thing was, this time there was a mosh pit and a lot of yelling and loud music involved and Hunk had no idea how to deal.Until a handsome, punk stranger sweeps him off his feet. Kind of.





	Hunka Burnin' Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LinaBenliven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinaBenliven/gifts).



> This is a gift for my lovely friend, Lina! I know you've had a pretty sucky time lately, so I hope this will cheer you up! <3 Happy birthday!
> 
> Art is by Mattie ^^ (mothable.tumblr.com)

Hunk felt very, very out of place.

 

The thing was, he came to this thing with Lance—he was meeting somebody, and that had been about the extent of Hunk’s knowledge. And, the thing was, he didn’t think that they would get _separated_ , but if he were honest with himself this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Usually, it was a minor issue, Hunk was capable of occupying himself, but _the thing was_ , this time there was a mosh pit and a _lot_ of yelling and loud music involved and Hunk had no idea how to deal. He’d just grabbed a beer and squeezed himself into a corner, scanning the room for Lance and his (presumably) date.

 

He wasn’t even sure what _Lance_ was doing here, he thought, a bit bitterly. Lance was a man of many facets, but Hunk had known him for years and as far as he knew, none of those facets included _punk_. Was it a new interest, or was he just chasing tail?

 

He didn’t get much more time to dwell on it, because his corner had gained a second occupant, lighting a cigarette _inside_ like some kind of _animal_.

 

Admittedly, a very, very _handsome_ animal and also that wasn’t a cigarette, nope, definitely weed. He caught the man’s eyes from behind his dark bangs, and _oh no oh no he caught him staring—_

 

The stranger offered the blunt. “Want some?”

 

“Uh.”

 

Lance had an uncanny ability to get Hunk wrapped up in his shenanigans, but Lance was also his best friend. Outside of that, he had never been the sort to give in to _peer pressure_ . That said, the stranger wasn’t exactly pressuring him, either, just _offering_ …

 

And, well, Lance had already blown him off. He may as well have some fun, right?

 

“Sure.”

 

He took the blunt, pinched between two fingers like he’d seen the stranger hold it—apparently his uncertainty was obvious, because when he glanced over again, the punk was biting back a smile. Not in a mean way, or anything. At least, Hunk didn’t _think_ it was in a mean way.

 

He was thinking too hard.

 

He took a puff, and tried to stifle his cough. Wow, okay, that hurt. Why did people do this?

 

“Why do people do this?”

 

The punk laughed out loud this time, coming closer. “Don’t do this a lot?” Hunk shook his head. Never, actually, but he didn’t feel the need to supply that detail. “It’ll feel really nice in a few minutes. But I can make it a little easier on you, big guy.”

 

He don’t know why he liked it so much, when this stranger said it like that.

 

“Trust me?”

 

“I don’t really know you.”

 

“Well, trust me anyway. Just for a second.”

 

He came into Hunk’s space, plucking the blunt from his fingers and taking a drag. Then he was pulling Hunk’s face close, and before he could protest, his face flushed red, he breathed into Hunk’s open mouth.

 

Without many other options, Hunk inhaled.

 

 

“Easier, right?” He asked, his eyes smiling—he was still so close, but Hunk didn’t exactly _mind_. He could make out his freckles in the half-light. Hunk only nodded. “Name’s Keith, by the way.”

 

“Uh, Hunk,” he replied, clearing his throat.

 

“Hunk,” Keith repeated (did his name normally sound like that? He was pretty sure he would notice if his name normally sounded so, so…), lips quirking up as his eyes flicked up and down, effectively breaking Hunk’s train of thought. Just breaking him, really. “Suits you.”

 

“Oh, jeez,” he wheezed, either from the weed or how flustered he was, but probably both. “That’s flirting. You’re flirting, right?”

 

“Uh-huh,” the punk nodded, as if it were the most simple thing in the world. His smile went a little softer. “Is it okay if I flirt with you?”

 

“Yeah. Yes.” God, he was really fumbling this one. “Sorry. I’m not good at this, but I’m not usually quite _this_ bad. It’s just…”

 

Keith watched him for a moment, then took his hand, gentle, searching. “Never been to this kind of thing before?” Hunk nodded, shoulders relaxing a bit.

 

“I wasn’t exactly prepared beforehand.” Keith laughed at that.

 

“Yeah, this is the sort of thing that might need a little warning,” he agreed, and pulled Hunk away from the wall. “C’mon, let’s go outside. Fresh air might make you feel a little better.” Of course, he promptly stuck the end of the blunt in Hunk’s mouth, fingers lingering on his lips for a brief moment. “One more little puff first, though. Should help you relax a bit.”

 

He obeyed, taking a short pull on the blunt, and this time, miraculously, he didn’t cough. Keith beamed, and brought the blunt back to his own lips. “There you go.” Then he was guiding Hunk back through the house, his warm hand small in his own.

 

And he was right—the fresh air felt good on his skin, and the noise from inside was muffled, and it didn’t reek so much of beer and sweat.

 

There were a handful of other people lingering outside, sitting on the porch or the lawn, in their own bubbles of quiet conversation. Keith pulled Hunk over to the porch steps to sit down, and Hunk blushed when Keith pressed close against his side—maybe to make sure there was room on the steps for people to come and go, or maybe because it was chilly, or maybe it was more flirting. It hardly mattered. He was starting to feel strange, sort of light.

 

And then the high hit him like a truck, unmistakable despite his lack of experience. He had to bite back a laugh at how completely ridiculous this whole situation was, and then he caught Keith peering at him, squinting, and he dissolved in a fit of giggles. Keith grinned.

 

“There it is. How are you feeling, big guy?”

 

“Good,” Hunk managed to reply through his laughter, leaning into Keith happily.

 

“You hungry?”

 

Suddenly, he was starving, and nodded eagerly.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“A milkshake.”

 

Keith nearly fell over laughing—Hunk didn’t think it was all that funny, but he couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Okay,” Keith panted, catching his breath, “okay, I’ll make you a milkshake.” He stood up and offered his hand to Hunk, but instead of helping Hunk to his feet, he just ended up toppling into Hunk’s lap.

 

Hunk found that he was more than okay with this arrangement, and hugged the punk to his chest happily. Keith’s laugh was warm against his neck, and he slung his arms around Hunk’s shoulders. “Are you flirting with me?” He teased, voice low and quiet.

 

“Is it working?”

 

“Mmhm.” Keith pulled back from the hug, smile soft. “C’mon. Milkshakes, remember?”

 

“Right,” he mumbled in reply, blinking away the haze in an effort to focus. “Okay.” Making milkshakes meant going to the kitchen meant standing up but he really, _really_ didn’t want to stop hugging Keith.The solution, Hunk thought, was pretty obvious: he could hug Keith _and_ walk.

 

Keith gasped as Hunk stood up, still holding Keith in his arms, and tightened his own around Hunk’s neck. “What are you doing?”

 

Hunk did his best to hold in his laughter (walking, laughing, and holding someone else was a set of tasks he wasn’t sure he could do all at once, right now), but giggles still escaped his lips. “It’s called _carrying_ ,” he explained, “and it’s going to change the world.”

 

After a moment, Keith relaxed a bit, evidently satisfied with Hunk’s ability to carry him. “Better not drop me, big guy.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

He made it safely to the kitchen—he definitely liked that being high didn’t make him stumbly like being drunk did—and reluctantly set Keith on the floor. He didn’t miss that the punk was blushing, though he couldn’t rule out the pot as a cause. Did pot make people flush? He would google it later. Keith was already rifling through the fridge for milk and ice cream. “Hey... Is it really okay to do this?”

 

“What?”  
  
“Use these people’s food. I mean, I don’t even know who lives here—”

 

“They’re friends of mine, don’t worry,” Keith chuckled. “They won’t mind, I promise.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“Feeling a little paranoid?”

 

“Uh,” Hunk blinked. That was kind of a weird question. “No more than usual, I think? But maybe. Uh.” Keith eyed him, leaned against the counter and sizing him up. “Why?”

 

“Pot does that sometimes. But everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”

 

Hunk blinked again. “Yeah?”

 

“Cross my heart,” Keith replied, his fingers mimicking the motion. “Now, milkshakes.” he turned and opened one of the cabinets, procuring a blender. “Hell yeah.”

 

“Hell yeah,” Hunk echoed, relaxing again, and watched Keith scoop ice cream into the blender. It was strawberry, or maybe cherry—it was definitely pink, but actually reading the container was much, much less fun than watching Keith. Now that he felt less stressed by the environment, and being abandoned by Lance, and the nerves from talking to cute boy _and_ smoking pot for the first time, he could really appreciate Keith more.

 

And there was a lot about him to appreciate.

 

“Hunk! Buddy!”

 

Hey, he knew that voice!

 

“Dude, stop checking out that guy’s ass and let’s get out of here.”

 

He (hesitantly) turned to grin at Lance. “That’s Keith. He’s making me a milkshake.”

 

Lance stared at him for a long moment before his jaw practically dropped onto the floor, sending Hunk into another fit of giggles. “Dude! Are you _high_?”

 

“Uh-huh!”

 

“Oh, hey. Lance, right?” Lance’s wide-eyed stare shifted from Hunk to Keith, and he only looked even more astounded.

 

“ _You_ ,” Lance seethed. “What are you even doing here? And Hunk, what are you doing hanging out with this guy? He’s a total jerk!”

 

Keith shrugged, passing Hunk a glass and a spoon. “Not as much of a jerk as someone who ditches their friend at a party, I guess, since Hunk’s been enjoying my company just fine. And I happen to be friends with the _hosts_ . What about you?” Hunk glanced between the two and started eating his milkshake. He might have intervened, if it weren’t the best thing he’d ever tasted. Like, _the best_ , holy shit.

 

“If you _must_ know, I was meeting someone. A _date_.” Lance looked back to Hunk, and scoffed. “You’re supposed to be able to drink milkshakes through a straw, mullet.”

 

Keith just hummed, perching happily on Hunk’s lap. “What can I say?” He shrugged. “I like ‘em _thick_.” Lance spluttered, flushing pink, and Hunk had the distinct feeling he was missing something. “So how’d your date go? Did they like your cheesy pick-up lines?”

 

“Hey, shhhh,” Hunk nuzzled into the back of Keith’s neck, pouting. “Let’s all be friends! We’re friends. Lance, I would offer you the rest of my milkshake as a peace offering but there is no ‘rest of it.’ I ate it all. I’m sorry.” Keith was biting back a smile, and even Lance seemed endeared to Hunk’s silliness, his scowl softening. With one more weak glare toward Keith, he sighed, and sat down at the table.

 

“I don’t need a peace offering, bro. It’s all good.”

 

“Cool,” Hunk replied, relieved, and then loosely cupped his hands over Keith’s ears, not even close to blocking out his own words, “because Keith’s really cute and we kinda-sorta-almost kissed earlier and I kinda really want to actually kiss him at some point I think but I also don’t want you guys to fight and stuff.” Keith did his best to repress his laughter, and so did Lance (while also looking completely Done).

 

“We can get along, big guy,” Keith promised, leaning back against Hunk’s chest. “Right, Lance?”

 

“Whaaat, you weren’t supposed to hear…”

 

Lance’s eyes narrowed, but he glanced back at Hunk and sighed. “Yeah, sure we can, mulle—ah, Keith.”

 

“Cool,” Keith replied, smiling. “Can you give us a minute?” Lance glanced between Hunk and Keith, but then stood, with a nod.

 

“Sure, sure. Hunk, I’ll wait in the car, okay?” Hunk nodded, and Lance left, but he didn’t get too much time to focus on that because Keith was shifting on his lap so that they could meet one another’s eyes.

 

“So, how about that kiss, huh?”

 

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Hunk muttered, almost a whine. “...But, yeah, kissing would be cool and good. Do you really wanna?”

 

Keith scoffed. “I’ve only been flirting with you all night. Yeah, I wanna kiss you.” Warm fingers were tapping at Hunk’s blushing cheek, and he tipped his face up. “Is that okay? I’m cool with waiting until another time.”

 

Hunk wasn’t sure he’d be able to work up the _nerve_ another time. Keith was so cool, and handsome, and smooth, and his freckles were really really really cute, and he was blushing a whole lot, but Keith was, too, so he didn’t feel too bad about it. “Now is good.”

 

“Okay,” he chuckled, and leaned in closer, slowly, like he was giving Hunk time to change his mind. Hunk leaned into it, and warm lips pressed to his, and wow, was this what all those romance authors meant when they said the characters felt _fireworks_ , or was this just the weed making everything feel electric?

 

He decided to go with ‘It’s just Keith’ because damn it he was feeling romantic, and pressed more firmly into the kiss, drinking up Keith’s surprised gasp and the way he clutched at Hunk’s shoulders. Suddenly feeling daring, he traced his tongue along the seam of Keith’s lips, getting another gasp before Keith pulled back, flushed, his eyes glittering with excitement but also dark with something else.

 

“Easy there, hot stuff,” he teased, “gotta save something for next time, right? Besides, your friend is waiting for you.”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

“Gimme your phone.”

 

Hunk obeyed, unlocking it so Keith could add his number to Hunk’s contacts. When he was finished, he placed the phone back in Hunk’s palm and kissed his cheek, smiling.

 

“Text me in the morning, Hunk.”

 

“Yeah,” Hunk replied, a little dazed. “Okay.” Keith gave him one last, chaste kiss before slipping out the kitchen door, leaving Hunk staring after him, until he came back to his senses and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, making his way back to the door to go find Lance.

 

He wanted to text Keith immediately, but forced himself to ignore Weed Brain and wait until the morning, which may have been a blessing and a curse because it took him an hour to work up the nerve to send just “Hey, it’s Hunk :)” (he’d debated on whether or not to include the smiley face for most of that hour), and then he promptly threw his phone to the opposite side of his bed and buried his face in one of his engineering books, because _out of sight, out of mind_.

 

Not a few minutes later did it vibrate, sending his heart into a frenzy of excitement and fear.

 

“Hey there, big guy ;)”

 

Hunk was going to melt into a puddle of goo on his bed, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. He even forgot to agonize over his reply.


End file.
